Relativity
by phoenixfyre13
Summary: Remus has always seen the similarities between himself and Snape. What will it take for him to understand what it means to be truly alone? Marauder era, Remus POV.


The Potions classroom was bathed in candlelight as Remus Lupin prepared his station for the last time that year, the chatter of surrounding students barely registering as he methodically placed supplies around his cauldron. The atmosphere of the classroom, with the flickering light off the dungeon walls and the smell of sandalwood and cinnamon from the bubbling cauldrons in the front, would have made most students feel right at home. Today, however, the normally calming and grounding routine and the comfortable surroundings could not erase the growing sickness he felt roiling in his belly as time for class grew nearer and nearer.

Snape would be here any minute.

Just the thought of having to face the Slytherin today brought a surge of shame through Remus. In fact, if he never saw Snape again that would be alright, but it would be very difficult to explain to Professor Slughorn why he couldn't partner with Snape for this last Potions class of the term. _Gee, Professor, after seeing him turned upside down in his underpants by my best friends while I stood by and did nothing, I really don't think I'll be able to look him in the eye._ Remus wasn't sure what was worse – the sick shame that sat in his gut over his unwillingness to stop the incident or the fact that, deep down, a part of him thought it was funny.

Remus glanced up to see Sirius and James experimenting with their latest learnings from Transfiguration, although he was fairly certain McGonagall had not intended for them to be half-transfiguring ink wells into sparrows. Hopefully they had done as well on their O.W.L. the day before as they were now. He smiled ruefully as he watched them send their inkwell birds flitting about, their uproarious laughter breaking the quiet murmur of the rest of the room. They were so different from him: loud, self-confident, raucous, ready for adventure. He was not quite sure what it was those two saw in him, other than a free ticket out of detention and an exciting escapade once a month.

He shook his head to clear those nagging doubts over the sincerity of their friendship. He could not imagine having to face Hogwarts without Sirius and James. He had often thought of what life would have been like if he had not walked in their compartment door on that first trip on the Hogwarts Express. He vividly imagined an outsider, nights spent solo in the library, his entire focus on his classwork because to think of anything else would bring him back to the unwanted solitude that had presented itself as the only way of existence for a teenage werewolf. Unhappy, unwanted, and very much alone.

Very much like Severus Snape.

As if he had conjured the greasy-haired teen with that disturbing thought, Remus looked up from his unpacking to find Snape leering down at him, a permanent sneer etched on his pale face. "Are you going to move over, or do I have to stand through class, Lupin?" he snarled through clenched teeth, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

Lupin moved over onto the second stool without saying a word, an unwelcome flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. Snape sat stiffly next to him, not looking over as he pulled out his copy of _Intermediate Potions: Volume II_ . The silence between the two boys was heavy with tension, and Remus wished, not for the first time, that he had someone -- _anyone_ -- else to partner with for fifth-year Potions. His only source of relief was, with the O.W.L. coming up in two days, this would be the last time he would have to deal with Snape.

Professor Slughorn looked up from his notes as time for class arrived. "All right students, settle down, please. I know there is a temptation to let things run amok the last day of class, but I guarantee most of you need this lesson if you hope to get an 'Exceeds Expectations' Friday. Let's go ahead and get started on our potion of the day," he announced, pulling himself to his feet and moving ostentatiously to the blackboard. With a flick of his wand, the ingredients for their next project appeared on the board. "Can anyone tell me," he began, turning back to face his class, "what the purpose of the mungati juice is in relation to potions?"

Several hands went up, and Slughorn nodded to Lily, sitting in the second row with Peter. "Yes, Miss Evans?"

"Its effects are very much like veritaserum," she answered. "Except it causes us to speak the truth as we see it, instead of what is factual."

"Very good, my dear!" Slughorn responded enthusiastically. "Five points to Gryffindor. Now, today we are going to brew up a batch of Relativity Drought, of which the base ingredient is mungati juice. This potion is not terribly practical, but a good challenge to prepare you for your O.W.L., as it is very complex and requires precision." Remus laughed to himself at the muffled groan from the direction of Sirius and James. Precision was not exactly their forté.

"Relativity Drought," continued Slughorn, "is a potion that allows us to see and feel the world, for a short time, through the eyes of the potion-maker. The tie that binds the maker to the recipient is a blood offering from the former, added at the end to seal it. It is not an oral potion, as most of the rest of our work in here has been, but one that is administered by skin contact. As none of us are going to cut ourselves for this, we will be finishing the potion before that last step is complete, so don't worry if you get some on you. You won't have to walk around feeling each other's emotions for the rest of the day. I know you young people have enough of your own." He smiled indulgently at the titter of laughter before continuing. "I will be able to judge rather efficiently the accuracy of your work without the last step. All right, everyone? You may begin any time."

Everyone began working, a dull murmur of conversation filling the classroom as people discussed the list on the board and rustled to the back of the room for the main ingredient, which Professor Slughorn had been kind enough to provide. Snape and Remus worked in tense silence, Snape moving to the back to collect the mungati juice while Remus copied word for word the ingredients on a small piece of parchment. They worked efficiently and quickly, and Remus was for a moment grateful to have the Slytherin as a partner. His work in Potions earned him high marks, and Remus was more than happy to allow Snape to take the lead on this project. Remus watched him from the corner of his eye as he ground up the narcissus root.

Snape's attention was completely focused on the ingredient list in front of him, his black eyes absorbing the information as he began the task of adding the mungati juice to the cauldron. Next to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Remus knew Potions was by far Snape's best subject. Never did Snape seem more comfortable than when he was stirring a cauldron and adding notes to his text, shaping and perfecting the potions with uncanny accuracy. Sometimes Remus wasn't even sure if Snape even knew he was there, and very seldom did they speak to one another unless it was a curt request for more of one ingredient, less of another. Remus wondered with a sharp pang if Snape's only joy came from this class, leaning over a cauldron that would not taunt him or play ridiculous pranks.

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the thought of the Marauders' latest escapade involving Snape. As a prefect, he knew that it had been his responsibility to rein in Sirius and James and, in some way, to have protected Snape from their ridicule. Yes, he deserved it on some level – the boy could be a prat and an egotist, and had made his fair share of snide comments and hexes in their direction. However, what they had done…Remus felt the shame pricking at him, needles in his mind, as he mindlessly worked through their current assignment. There had been no line drawn in the sand, but Remus was fairly certain wherever that line was they had leapt across it yesterday. No matter how many times he told himself it was all in jest, Snape had goaded them into it, the remorse somehow found its way back to the surface and left Remus wondering if the worst monster lurking within him was the wolf after all.

Remus was so deep in thought he did not hear Snape's short request for the paring knife in front of him. When he felt Snape's glare on the side of his head, he turned and looked at him in bewilderment. To his surprise, class was almost finished, and Snape was gathering ingredients and supplies to be replaced in the cupboard.

"I need the paring knife, Lupin. This table isn't going to clean itself," he sniped, reaching past Remus and snatching it off the table. The thin blade sliced his finger, which Snape lifted to his mouth, cursing. The knife slipped down into the cauldron, causing its contents to hiss and sputter at the unwanted intruder.

Remus cursed softly, quickly using a pair of tongs to extract the knife from the boiling liquid. "Sorry, Severus," he muttered quietly, wiping the knife off on the corner of this robes.

Suddenly, he felt a tingling begin in the hand that held the knife. Remus dropped the sharp blade as the strange prickling made its way up his arm and took him over in a shimmer of sensation. A rush of emotions poured through him, unfamiliar and frightening. He looked up in bewilderment at Snape, who was watching him with an odd expression on his face as he held his still-bleeding finger.

"What's wrong with you?" muttered Snape. Remus' brain exploded in a dark array of feelings. Loathing, contempt, and a tiny bite of pain in his finger. He looked down in confusion at his hand, not seeing any visible mark but feeling the burn just the same.

Slughorn strode up to the table and peered into their cauldron. "Very nice work, boys," he said heartily. "A full mark for the day. I expect you will both do well on your exam."

Remus felt a swell of pride burst inside him. _But why?_

_Because I'm the best bloody potion-maker in this class. Despite my poor excuse for a partner. _The answer seemed so clear to him at that moment, he couldn't help the smirk of success that bloomed on his face, closely matching that of his partner. He frowned in confusion and gathered up his things quickly, suddenly wanting nothing but to escape the room and hole himself up in his dormitory until dinner. He brushed past Snape, barely looking at anyone else for fear they would start giggling again. As if he needed to be reminded. _Reminded of _what

"Oy! Moony, wait up!"

Remus felt his insides freeze at the sound of the voice behind him. He turned to find Sirius beckoning him to his table, a glimmer of mirth flickering in his eyes.

Hot boiling hatred melted the ice in his gut as he looked at Sirius and James, whispering conspiratorially to one another. Along with that rising hatred was a curious ache that it took a moment for Remus to put his finger on. Longing.

_Must be nice to have friends._

He stiffly walked over to them, his heart rate spiking in fear. _Fear?_ "What do you want, Black?" he asked coldly, barely recognizing his own voice. What the bloody hell was _wrong_ with him?

Sirius looked at him strangely before turning his attention on Snape. "Just watch," said James, and Remus had a sudden urge to wipe the smug look off of his face. He turned in time to see the transfigured ink bottle fluttering in the air, directly above Snape's head.

Sick dread filled Remus as Sirius whispered, _"Inclinodum_."

"_No!_" shouted Remus, his wand out to try and stop the inevitable. Snape's head jerked around and Remus felt a quick jolt of surprise and bewilderment as Snape met his eyes.

The next moment, ink was dripping down Snape's lank hair, over his face, down his robes. Remus' eyes grew large at the sensation of liquid dripping down his forehead, his fingers searching frantically through his hair. He felt a spurt of shock, a twist of anger, and nauseating embarrassment crawl through his stomach and claw its way into his throat, threatening to choke him. Snape darted from the classroom, his belongings forgotten on the table, leaving in his wake the howls of James and Sirius and the snorts of laughter from others still in the room.

Remus could barely breathe against the onslaught of emotions welling up within him. He had never been more sickened by the presence the two boys sitting next to him, and he ran from the room as the bile rose in his throat.

He made it out into the hall, eyes searching frantically for somewhere, anywhere that would afford him solitude. He ran up the stairs, almost knocking over a group of first-year girls who were sniggering to one another and looking behind them.

_Stop laughing at me!_

Remus plowed ahead, racing down the hallway as tears of embarrassment sprung into this eyes. He threw himself into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom as the tears flowed, and ran smack into Severus Snape.

The shock he felt was mirrored in Snape's face as they glared at one another defiantly. A part of Remus was stunned to see tear tracks matching his own running down Snape's face, rivulets of gray on his otherwise ink-smeared, blackened cheeks.

"What do you _want_, Lupin?" he shrieked, getting in Remus' face. "Isn't _this_ enough for you? You and your bloody friends haven't done enough?"

"I – I –," he stammered, unsure of what to say, how to explain his bizarre behavior, how to excuse his friends even as contempt for them bloomed into something more akin to pure hate. And for just a moment, the oddest feeling of self-loathing overtook everything else as Snape's eyes filled with fresh tears.

"Just shut up!" Snape screamed, turning from Remus as he rushed to the sink, frantically scouring his face to get the ink off. "Leave me alone! Just _leave me alone_!"

Then as suddenly as those alien emotions had come, they were gone, the self-loathing, hatred and horrific embarrassment melting away until Remus was left standing, very bewildered and very ashamed, watching Snape work manically to rid himself of the offending liquid.

Comprehension dawned as he glanced at Snape's shaking fingers and noticed the small smear of blood down the back of his hand. _The blood. The knife._ And suddenly it was startlingly clear just where all those thoughts and emotions had come from. Or, more accurately, from whom.

The realization made his insides contract in a spasm of overwhelming pity that was hard to bear. Remus lifted his wand and did the only thing that he could think to do, the only right thing he had done in a long time when it came to Severus Snape. "_Purgos_," he muttered quietly, and watched as the ink disappeared from Snape's face and clothing. Snape stopped scrubbing abruptly and looked in the mirror for a moment before wheeling around to face Remus.

"Why?" he asked hoarsely. "You looking for thanks? Another chance to gloat? Because you won't get it here."

"I know," Remus said softly, his heart aching for the scraggly, lank-haired teenager standing before him.

"Then why won't you just leave?" he hissed.

"Because, I – I understand –"

"You don't understand anything," Snape spat, his hands clenched in tight fists at his side. "And don't pretend you have any idea how I feel. You and those pompous, juvenile prats. You're all alike, not giving a damn about anything but your childish games, degrading people just for a sport. Just go back to your smug little friends and tell them that _Snivellus_ is just as weak as you thought he was. Ought to make them happy." His voice cracked, and he turned abruptly, placing his hands on the sink basin and bowing his head. "Just go, Lupin," he muttered bitterly, his hair draping his face from Remus' view. "I don't need any help being alone."

Remus opened his mouth to reply, but no words came. He turned and walked slowly out the door, closing it softly behind him and leaving Snape with his humiliation. As he slowly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, he considered what Snape had said, what he himself had felt, and tried to imagine feeling like that every time he crawled out of bed in the morning. It could just as easily been him, ink dripping from his face and mortification filling every cell of his being. It could just as easily have been him in that bathroom. By every right, monster versus monster, fate versus fate, it _should_ have been him.

Humiliated, despised and completely alone.

And as he walked, the weight of shame heavy on his shoulders, Remus knew everything that lonely, pathetic boy with black liquid and crystal tears running down his face had said was true. Except for one very important thing.

For once, he knew exactly how it felt to be Severus Snape.


End file.
